


Crucial: the Power of a Propaganda Love

by Dcv



Category: Naruto
Genre: Censorship, Drama & Romance, F/M, Post-War, Revolution, lost war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27741610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dcv/pseuds/Dcv
Summary: AU. Their whimper of warning sounds as beautiful as uncensored poetry, passionate, forbidden publicist letters, and rebellious songs chanted without care by bleeding young men in a faraway cellar as their own death lullaby. The beautiful roar of freedom slowly fades into a wounded whisper as the Committee for State Security chokes out their last breath. Then silence.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 9
Kudos: 5
Collections: SASUSAKU, SasuSaku





	1. Chapter 1

Crucial: The Power of a Propaganda Love

In The Memory of an Exceptional Generation

Someone way smarter than me said:

"Sometimes telling is better than not telling. And sometimes telling can do better harm."

Chapter One: Mothers and Fathers and Siblings and Friends

Uchiha Sasuke

You know the feeling of receiving something you never wanted. Something you dreaded even. Like a change in your room made by your mom.

I guess that is how I would prefer to describe the shift in my anxiety. Me no longer dreading the awful consequences could mean a healthy mindset. Or it could just as well represent a calm before the storm. In every way this change of attitude is annoying and unwanted.

The worst of all are the memories I tried to leave behind long ago, not the obvious ones, however. Those that are sickening, but oddly nostalgic, leave the same feeling of your heart being tied to a great rock with a fine string and when you try to move away, to move on, your heart starts bleeding from all the tugging.

One of the furthest memories from my childhood is associated with a girl from my flat; 8 years old; a sudden death caused by inner bleeding. No one ever even looked into the case, there also were women and men, but I can't recall anything about them.

I only remember the older girl from my flat, the blue door on the right side with a shitty graffiti and a golden handle, sixth floor. She also had a dog called Jessie- some Russian breed. For some reason, I feel like that matters.

I never got to play with her, no one did.

I remember receiving the news like a brick wall. None of us cried, none of us were in shock or scared thinking it could have been any of us. We were just curious or in simple denial.

Naruto, for example, came up with a ridiculous idea that the 8-year-old ran away from home and got married, the parents were embarrassed and decided to spread out a word, that she actually died.

Funny, how the idiot could come up with the dumbest idea and it could somehow help preserve his idiotic radiant innocence.

Later on, while I was overthinking a little bit too much over that particular death for a 7 year-old, I discovered something.

Yes, it could have been me. The kid who died, I mean.

It could have been any of us.

Yes, it could have been me and therefore, it should have been me.

The thought didn't bother me. It was something I accepted with ease.

After all, it wasn't me.

The gloomy clouds of a child's early death receded and childhood remained sunny. School was chaining us together so we wouldn't start falling apart.

The kids in the class were okay. We were all similar to each-other. The boys got along with the girls. We all were good at math and we had all our pictures of cars, sunflowers, suns and sea hanging on the wall; it was the first six grades; the only years of my childhood.

No leeching smell of death following us around like stormy clouds could wipe the genuine smiles from our faces. No fear of loss and separation.

With a skip in our steps we marched into the hell.

Haruno Sakura

My dad used to always talk about 80ties like there was something he was especially proud of. Everyone was proud of eighties as I later discovered. Though, the stories being told were never inviting. As I grew older I understood why: They were proud because they survived.

They survived and spread like cockroaches unaffected by nuclear leak. After all, only the strongest of them got to live past the age of twenty. I remember thinking that adults were capable of anything. Sasuke once told me when we were young, that his mother indeed had a doctors degree, that she spent all of her afternoons reading Goethe in Deutsche, she made exquisite dinners and worked an eight-hour shift at night at the 24/7 exchange cabin. Oh, and she had two kids – the oldest barely 11 years old.

When I try to remember this woman I cannot seem to recall her features, but I do however remember that me and my mother found her fairly pleasant and well-mannered. I used to think she was too skinny and her habit of fixing my collar every once in a while, when she picked us up from school, was in fact affectionate.

Strange how the generation of our parents even under the pressure of Totalitarian intoxication and the defeating, hopeless desperation caused by a lost war, could still hold so much power over the stream of their life. No hunger, no darkness, no biting cold, or scalding heat, no humiliation, no loss could prevent them from rising again and keep preserving what was a priority - us.

Uchiha Sasuke

My father was a man of a few words. He was not absent for his children, nor was he overly present. I didn't know who exactly he was, he used to work just anywhere, drive a bus, fix the pipes, reset the watches, like everyone did back then. Later I found he was an engineer. My father used to bring supplies from the market, he was always tired, exhausted even, and he had a flaring temper. But I also remember that he was fairly easy to please, he wasn't asking of me to be the first in class, he never had anything against my friends, and he was okay with my weird quirks. And he had a particular sense of humor, the type that lets you laugh death in its face and has you grinning instead of panicking.

Father was tall and strong. I remember considering if he could lift our flat if I asked him to. I now understand he wouldn't. Not because he couldn't, but because it would be unnecessary.

That was Uchiha Fugaku. No nonsense, commenting at the irony of tragic events, a definite smart mouth, introducing me to all the dangers of life without putting me in harm's way, not sparing unnecessary attention, and safe - always safe.

I rarely think of my late father nowadays. It is disappointing to reminisce about him for I find I have forgotten quiet a few things. Like his voice. I recall it used to surge confidence and self-awareness at the same time. Although, I can't remember the ring to it, though. How it sounded at all.

I find this deeply upsetting, for my whole life has been dedicated to rebuilding my father's name and reputation, I wanted people except for me to remember him and tell stories of how Uchiha Fugaku tried his best.

Sakura remembered him. I asked her once if she did. She told me of this one time when we were in third grade and Fugaku picked her up from school, 'cause no one else was available. He took her along with Itachi on a ride across the town, he was a bus-driver than, my father. Sakura said that she remembered he was polite with the passengers and joked a couple of times about Itachi. She said she didn't get it, but was sure it was funny.

Once during a sleepless summer night, Sakura told me about that day again.

"I was chewing a gum real loud. Could tell it sorta annoyed Itachi. He got off the bus two blocks from ours and I thought it was because of my gum - wait, it's too hot in here."

She took of her sweatshirt and lied naked next to me.

"Now that I think about It, It could be a shortcut to the bureau."

The absentminded look on her doll-like face evaporated in a moment. After a long pause she breathed through the unbearable heat and building sexual tension.

"Your father used to wear the same jacket all the time. I also remember he had little gray hair above his ears"

I told her that he didn't have any gray hairs. She insisted that he did, so I didn't argue with her further.

She turned on her stomach revealing a beautiful back, smooth, slightly sun-kissed skin and all.

We dropped the subject completely.

I avoided remembering Uchiha Fugaku, Uchiha mikoto, Obito, Shisui or any of the Uchihas for that matter.

although, I did spend a lot of time thinking about Uchiha Itachi. My deceased brother.

.

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In The Memory of an Exceptional Generation

please, leave a review and let the author know your thoughts.


	2. 2

Crucial: The Power of a Propaganda Love

In The Memory of an Exceptional Generation

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Chapter two: Cigarette Stubs

Uchiha Sasuke

The new guy at work was having a trouble with something so I offered to help, during the break we talked a little; turns out he was from our neighborhood. He was 2 years my junior, the kid was obviously not used to physical work, though he was strong, in order to be a miner you need a different type of strength. You need to know how to replenish your energy faster, how to wait for the second breath and make it last. It all needs not just a muscle, but a simmering drive to survive.

I pitied the guy, I knew he wouldn't stay here for long, and god knows there are not too many options these days.

The next day we talked again. The guy, the boy, was obviously exhausted and was pathetically trying to hide it. We spoke about a little more personal stuff this time; I was beginning to like him.

I asked him if there was anyone waiting for him at home, he answered that indeed his mother would meet him at the station. When he asked me the same thing I told him that I have Sakura; that she'd be waiting for me at home. He frowned at that.

"Are you okay 'bout leavin' her all alone? I mean… my mother stays with her sister's family while I'm away," He tries to delicately address the matter. Honestly, it doesn't really bother me.

"She's not alone." I don't explain that I also have Naruto, and I don't explain that even if Naruto was not there to support Sakura, she would never put herself in harm's way, if anything Sakura was the one taking care of the Uzumaki.

She was my solidest bone.

I did not explain any of it, because it's unnecessary.

I love Sakura. And contrary to popular belief it's not hard to admit it out loud.

I don't know how long I have loved her, probably always. I don't even remember myself without her. I measure time by the events concerning her.

She's finishing collage this year and I started working on the north after her second year (two years), she bought that yellow lamp two months ago - the same day I got a haircut (need to get another in a month), she was mad at me the last time I was home and stayed at her place, something she almost never does these days, she did not speak to me or let me touch her, until I climbed through her balcony (four days ago). She was dusting the shelves, the sketches of some wine package branding project on her table spread out under that yellow lamp. I surprise her with my arms suddenly winding around her waist from behind (four days ago).

"Hey, blackbird" I whispered in her ear. And she yelps.

She wrestles her way out of my arms and starts shouting at me for doing something stupid. As she rambles on, she shifts to other subjects, about how I never consider how she can be tired too and how I leave dirty shirts laying on the floor, which adds up to her housework, and she doesn't have time for that (four days ago).

"My hands are already full with Naruto and his disgusting habits!"

I don't tell her that my place is never disorganized and she could do a better job with Naruto, maybe wash his dishes sometimes. I don't say it, because it's unnecessary.

I know that Haruno Sakura is busy; she is trying to finish collage, create a decent portfolio to maybe start working on bigger projects. She's creative, she has a strong, feminine and effortless sense of humor and she always knows what her work is worth.

Never settles for a smaller price.

I know somewhere on the way from a child that stole my collection of stickers to an efficient woman who knows a girl is privileged to not sweat it, she became someone a cruder guy, like Naruto, would call an Ace.

We make up after I apologize and tell her she is right about everything. Because, that is what a man must do.

She's sittin' here waitin' for you, four days a week. The least you can do is let her win every argument wordlessly.

I remember how the tension in her shoulders dissipated.

"Mebuki will be back in an hour"

"My train is at eleven."

"So, we have an hour."

It was four days ago

My time of reminiscing is over. I notice I'm out of cigarettes and jingle the change in my pocket. Sakura got me hooked on her slims and its low nicotine so I smoke more. It's enough for a pack, but I know I'll need to save it to eat something on my way home.

"Dunhill slims; White." There goes my dinner.

"It's 13.79"

I head back and find the new guy waiting for me. And it's that moment I suddenly am annoyed by his presence.

We go back to work without losing any more time.

The next day I go back home on an early morning train as usual and the guy sticks with me. When we get to our station, there is no sign of his mother, he asks me to wait for a little while as he makes a call. I would normally be annoyed by something like this. But I suddenly am reminded of Haruno Mebuki, Uzumaki Kushina and Uchiha Mikoto. His mother was supposed to meet him at the station and did not show up; apparently she did not let him know about the change of plans beforehand either.

The guy comes back and explains that his mother is feeling ill today, nothing serious though. I offer to drop him off; Naruto is picking me up with his truck.

The boy agrees and thanks me, keeping that eerie smile on his face. I don't know why, but I don't want him anywhere near the Dobe.

That is the main reason why after Uzumaki finally arrives, I tell him to sit in the cargo, although there is enough space for him inside.

Naruto grins at him and they shake hands.

The guy lives two blocks away from ours. And, as I comprehend our close quarters, Sakura's face floats up in my mind.

I don't like him.

And as we watch the boy cross the street to disappear in a crowd of people surrounding his building, I feel the unease clutching my stomach slowly releases.

"Damn, he looks like you."

I nod at Naruto absentmindedly. He does look a bit like me. Only younger.

"Happier though."

I nod again.

That's exactly what bothers me.

As we enter Naruto's apartment Sakura greets me with a tired smile in the doorway. She must have heard the Dobe's old truck drive up.

"Hey, blackbird." I smirk down at her. I'm about six inches taller than her and I'm kinda proud after I overheard her once gushing to Ino about our prefect height difference.

She stands on her tiptoes and places a loud kiss on my mouth. I respond automatically and wind my arms around her; kissing her lips, nose, the apple of her cheek and her hairline.

I slightly lift her up in my arms as I sneakily grope her behind.

She releases her breathy, loud laugh, which Naruto describes as unattractive, manly and scary; but I find it endearing.

She smirks back at me after I place her down.

"Hey, charming."

Jesus, I could fuck that smirk out of her.

"Hey, kids! Move to the kitchen! Come on! Don't crowd the hallway!"

Naruto practically pushes us towards the kitchen with his belly.

"Whatever, fatso." I grumble as I take 'my' seat at the small table next to the window, and flick the pack of Sakura's cigarettes lying on the table to fish one out with my teeth. Sakura whines loudly at my habit of stealing from her, and I silence the Haruno by pulling her by the wrist into my lap.

"Sak, I met Teme's coworker today."

Naruto starts as he takes off the lid of the pan to check something Sakura has made. The smell hits me too, as I can tell there are lots of spices in her cooking and it's something with tomatoes.

"I'll have a bowl too."

Sakura gets up and pushes Naruto out of the way to avoid the Dobe splashing food everywhere.

As we start to eat Naruto continues, completely disregarding Sakura barking at him, "Shut your mouth while you're chewing!"

"The guy looked like Sasuke a lot. Though I guess he was younger, rei't?"

I just nod and lift two fingers quickly to show how many years of difference there was.

"Right."

Sakura didn't hide how uninterested she was with the subject and proceeded to tell me all about the project she made.

"-so they are paying me hourly."

I nod and lift a brow in question.

"It's 8 dollars for'em?"

She blows on her soup to help it cool while watching for my reaction.

I nod in approval. She's a newbie, and although talented there are other graphic designers out there with fatter portfolios, not to mention, though almost done, she's still in school. I'd say 8 dollars is already pushing their limits, but Sakura never lowers a price.

"It jeopardizes the value of the product if you play with the market prices too often."

I know that it's something she picked up from Itachi.

Itachi.

The new guy, boy, doesn't look like me.

He looks like Itachi.

The realization makes me uncomfortable.

That night as Sakura sleeps soundly in my room, I sit on the balcony.

I don't notice how she wakes up. She watches me wordlessly for some time and pulls on the hem of my shirt softly with her delicate fingers, signaling me to go back to bed. I nod at her and catch her hand before she leaves squeezing softly, mutely letting her know I'll be back in a minute.

The cigarette stubs in the ashtray bother me.

They're overflowing.

Haruno Sakura

Funny how you can't tell how you are growing up, can't tell your bones are growing, you don't notice how you are losing the baby fat on your face, can't see how your old shoes don't fit anymore, even how your hair got slightly longer in a year, but you feel aging that is so much slower.

I'm 21 now and I feel how I'm getting old.

"Did Itachi ever feel old?"

Sometimes Uzumaki Naruto while doing something idiotic, like eating pesto sauce straight from the box not minding how it's been expired for two days, drops a question that reminds you he knows more than you think.

"Y'know he was way too old for his age, not necessarily 'cause of the things he had to endure, all of us went through tough shit, doesn't mean we all ended up like him."

Itachi was too old for his age. That was a fact. Which normal kid would start what he had started at the age of twelve? Uchiha Itachi destroyed every expectation coming his way. He was impossible to predict. Uchihas should have noticed earlier that Itachi was different. They should have known he kept all these secrets that would lead to the end of the family. And that he would take those secrets to the grave along with every other person knowing it.

Itachi Uchiha was not tortured by the unfortunate events surrounding his life; he was the cause of most of them. Tortured soul was Sasuke. Itachi was the old one.

And here I thought Naruto's small brain would never comprehend a word like endure.

We were sitting in his small kitchen. The air-conditioner all the way in his bedroom was too small to help fight off the unbearable summer heat here. Sure, we could wait for Sasuke in the living room, but Naruto's mom never allowed us to smoke there. And even though the guy is completely disgusting and keeps his place up to it, that was one rule set by late Uzumaki Kushina he could not disregard.

"Well he was older than us. And, yeah, he probably did…" I let the tang of the cigarette smoke make a circle in my lungs, "feel old I mean."

I and my boys lived in the same block so we shared most of our childhood memories.

It's silly calling them boys now that we are adults. But it does feel right.

Sasuke lives on the 4th floor and Naruto on the third both in a D flat, while we, the Harunos, live on the first floor of the B building.

As a child I used to irrationally fear that the sixteen storeys scarily situated above our apartment was too heavy and would eventually crush our home. And I bitterly thought that my boys live too far to make it in time to save me.

But, there was someone who kept all fears away, not just mine, but boys' too. Because there was nothing impossible for this person (nowadays I understand that this idea came from a simple notion of not knowing what was possible for this person. Not knowing him, period).

Itachi is indeed a very important part of our lives.

Even now.

So I do understand why Naruto sometimes asked questions about him out of the blue.

Because we were constantly thinking about Itachi.

Even when we were not aware of it.

Especially sweet, kind, caring Uzumaki Naruto.

Naruto was an idiot as a kid. He reacted to everything in the same way, never ever changed his mind about anything, he was sloppy and he had a foul language. His predictable nature and secure familiarity was the inviting thing about him.

Maybe his talent of effortless communication is what lies behind his success (if you can call her that) in what he does.

By now Naruto speaks six different languages fluently. Translating legal (and, I doubt, illegal) contracts, documents, sometimes some articles.

Though the concept of his line of work is simple, it's something you tiptoe around; since it could be lethal if used in favor of some political forces. And in this family it was all about politics.

Uzumaki Kushina Used to say Naruto's like his dad.

Namikaze Minato died when his son was 4 years old. He came back to his family only once a year. The rest he spent in the coal mines.

Naruto's dad was an engineer just like Sasuke's. He was the one who discovered the coal fields in North and started the mines.

Namikaze Minato was deemed a traitor and a spy and was sentenced with death.

Uzumaki Kushina told my mom about the period of his trial, how she used to go to jail every two days, how they never let her see her husband.

"I used to bring him clean clothes and pick up the dirty ones. At first they had just blood on it. After three weeks I noticed the yellow spots on his dirty laundry. That's how I knew his wounds were infected." And she was right. Namikaze Minato was tortured for days before he died of sepsis probably, because, he refused to sign the admittance testimony of betraying his country by spying and providing the enemy with highly important information. His death was slow and horrifying.

Uzumaki Kushina was proud and devastated.

Ten years later after her husband's untimely death, she was taken for interrogation to reinvestigate, which is an excuse so ridiculous, it just indicates how much the bureau doesn't give a fuck if we actually know the motives behind their actions are fake. After the interrogation, she is sentenced to be forcefully relocated, repressed, all the way to the North borders. Naruto was to be legally bound to Jiraya, his godfather, and remain under his care until he turned of age.

However, Uzumaki Kushina never made it to north. After receiving the news of her family's fate she had a stroke. Uchiha Itachi was the one who found her in her own living room when he returned with fourteen year old Naruto.

Naruto says Itachi did not let him inside so he didn't see her. He also says he couldn't look at her lying in an open coffin during the funerals.

Uzumaki Naruto when asked to kiss his deceased mother's forehead to say goodbye, did it with his eyes closed. He once secretly told Sasuke that for a while after that, every time he closed his eyes he would feel the dead coolness of her skin on his lips.

Uchihas were always on Minato's side; though never displaying it publicly, of course. They always knew that Minato was neutralized by the government for his loud mouth. The Namikaze wanted to quit collaborating with the transporting companies to stop delivering coal that was the best energetic source available back then.

Minato used to say that while the north provides energy, it's also up to north to decide where it must be distributed.

You see, coal was transported to South which was later to become a conflict zone. South, had its own resources of power on the market and it was enough to support the local consumers. So why would they risk jeopardizing their own products, if the consumer's quantity did not suddenly triple? The fact is they wouldn't. They needed extra coal stocks to power something else. Something their producers could not cover.

Maybe, they even were secretly supporting the manufacturers of weapons?

Maybe, Namikaze Minato should have never started the mines.

Maybe, Itachi really did see the full picture.

"Teme's gonna be pissed." Naruto interrupted my train of thoughts.

"Aa..." I mumbled absentmindedly, while I stare at the mess in the sink. A mountain of dishes lay there untouched.

Sasuke was different than Naruto in the past. He was like this major sweetheart. Even as a child he spoke to be understood, not applauded, he would nod through silence and that spoke of his attentive nature, which was never openly demonstrated, but nevertheless still present.

All in all, Uchiha Sasuke was a sweet boy.

He was raised to treat ladies with respect, so he actually apologized to me after he stuck the gum in my hair, and said I was pretty and offered to marry me because I was still crying.

So I agreed. And here I am fifteen years later with my boys, as one is slowly eating his way to obesity, and the other is developing a nasty habit of stealing my cigarettes to work. We are still bound together. No geography could tear us apart.

Not even when Sasuke is working shift after shift as a coal miner in the North. Not even when he has to take an early morning train with other workers to make it home before noon; Only to lay a kiss on my shoulder and pass out from exhaustion right after. No matter what, I will still religiously repeat my cycle while he's gone. Project; get groceries for Mebuki, maybe stay the night, check Naruto's breakfast, maybe clean up a bit in his dingy apartment, Uzumaki regularly drives me to collage for my classes, on a way back home we buy groceries and prepare a dinner at his place, preferably enough to last for two days, go back to Sasuke's apartment, which is practically mine when he's away, dust the surfaces, sweep the floors do the laundry, study, maybe give him a call later that night, might as well go out with girls, or have them over, none of this matters.

Since on the fifth day I'm at Naruto's waiting for his arrival. Sometimes the dummy is waiting with me, sometimes he's picking Sasuke up from the station himself.

As I start arguing with Naruto about keeping expired food, clearly out of boredom and annoyance about Sasuke running late (god knows the Uzumaki wouldn't throw out the food till it has fully rotten), the front door is opened.

"-It will ruin your teeth too!"

"Sak-"

"Don't even start!"

"What's goin' on 'ere."

I feel Sasuke's strong large hand grasp my hipbone from behind. His thumb circling over the dimples in my lower back. The calm baritone of his voice washes over my tense shoulders, soothing, relaxing.

Before I can turn to greet him, he spins me around and tickles a spot under my rib, my knees buckle from shock, and an unexpected breath of laughter leaves my throat. He almost drops me to the ground, but firmly holds me between his knees.

" 'ey blackbird." He smirks down at me placing a sweet kiss under my bottom lip. And suddenly, all the sorrow of the day shifts back to make room for Uchiha Sasuke.

"Why you so late?" I ask after catching my breath a hand resting behind his neck.

"You missed a whole lot," Naruto inserts as he casually fishes a cigarette pack out of Sasuke's pocket while he's busy holding me. "Your girlfriend decided that it's okay to flirt with the postman."

"I thought that's something old wives do." For once Sasuke stays tranquil and is not annoyed by Naruto digging in his pockets, though I notice he avoids looking at the pile of dishes in the sink. He knows pestering is Uzumaki's way of saying 'I missed you. You are late.'

"Which I've become with your absence; if you were late for another hour I'd be on my way to marrying him"

"Does he know you die your hair pink?"

Naruto laughs in the background.

"Okay, kids! Let's go out." He was surely planning to drag us to the Ichiraku's.

"Just get the food; I wanna stay in, Dobe."

"It's my place, my rules."

"Naruto, just go, we're hungry." I decide to interrupt.

Naruto begrudgingly leaves us and I turn around to face Sasuke.

"Hey."

"Hey, Blackbird" He repeats.

He sits in the chair and takes me with him, as I land on his lap he presses the side of his head on my collarbone. Suddenly, the unbearable heat is okay. I caress his hair and we stay like that for a while.

Just when I thought Sasuke had passed out on me, he spoke up.

"Something happened at work today…"

"Hm?"

"The new guy I told you about?"

"Yeah?"

"He was askin' some questions."

I feel the unease slowly creeping up on me.

"What questions"

Uchiha Sasuke just shakes his head, placing soft kisses on my fingers.

When I was about to repeat my question he says.

"It's nothing."

His hand slides up my inner thigh and I'm reminded that it has been too long since I last saw him.

My frantic thoughts are discarded when he lays a wet, sweet and long kiss on my mouth.

Later that evening he declares that he's going to work an extra day at the mines next time.

The guy he mentioned earlier apparently asked about Itachi.

Naruto frowned when Sasuke said that.

We had an inkling something was going to drop. Me and Naruto I mean.

And as the three of us spend the rest of the evening watching reruns of the old TV show, I sit next to Sasuke my legs thrown across his lap, I notice something is off.

Because Uchiha Sasuke is clutching my knees like an angry boy he once was, and Naruto is not eating anything.

As I stare at the cigarette stubs in the ashtray in front of us. I know that something is very wrong because we never smoke in Uzumaki Naruto's living room.

Maybe Namikaze Minato should have never discovered the fucking coal field.

"So."

Me and Naruto look expectantly at Sasuke.

"I thought it was just me who flirted with postmen"

And just like that everything goes back to normal.

Later that night I remember Naruto mentioning that the new guy from Sasuke's work, who apparently was asking questions about Itachi, lived two blocks away from ours.

"I was chewing a gum real loud. Could tell it sorta annoyed Itachi. He got off the bus two blocks from ours and I thought it was because of my gum"

"Now that I think about It, It's a shortcut to the bureau."

My stomach tightened in fear.

.

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In The Memory of an Exceptional Generation

please, leave a review and let the author know your thoughts.


	3. 3

Crucial: The Power of a Propaganda Love

In The Memory of an Exceptional Generation

Chapter 3: rodents and sparrows

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Committee for State Security

EASTERN KONOHA BUREAU'S ARCHIVE

1990.12/06

NAMIKAZE MINATO ARRESTED UNDER AN ORDER OF THE CSS.

Age 31

Married with a child

The original founder of the coal mines in north republic.

Namikaze Minato is accused of espionage and is held responsible for the information leak.

Court sentences Namikaze Minato to execution.

Court orders EKB to continue investigating Namikaze Minato's case. The subject's family and acquaintances are to be constantly monitored during his execution, as well as afterwards.

Namikaze Minato's heritage, any fortune in the ownership of Namikaze Minato or his family is to be confiscated, frozen and annulled.

The official legal successor of the " " in the independent north republic of Konoha is the State.

Uzumaki Naruto, when of age, is to receive legal approval from the Court in order to success any of Namikaze Minato's legacy.

1990.28/08

Court approves to let Uzumaki Kushina keep the apartment formerly belonging to Namikaze Minato in the 12th district of Eastern Konoha.

"See notifications 3.134 for further details."

He absorbs the information on the thin yellowed page of the old document.

This place is dusty as fuck.

He holds back a sudden urge to scratch at his nose, which is currently almost burning from the horrible smell of dust and old papers.

'So Naruto lives in the old family apartment'

He knows for a fact that the blond and the youngest Uchiha live in a close range, practically neighbors.

The documents are strictly confidential, obviously untouched.

His eyes scan over the remaining pages, calculating how much time he actually has to spend on this, and starts going through each case carefully.

Oh, well. It's still essential for the operation to know the targets' backgrounds.

1993.05

Uchiha Itachi

Age 12

Legal guardians: Uchiha Fugaku, Uchiha Mikoto

Third year Academy student.

Accomplished Cadet

Successful field experience as a sparrow's main Intel.

Offering his services to the Bureau.

By the recommendations of the state organs Uchiha Itachi through the past year proved himself a patriot and is capable to practice D ranked missions under supervision.

Uchiha Itachi played key role in capturing the dissident, Dan Kato.

Cadet's status and association with EKB is to be kept secret till further notice by the order of the state.

Uchiha Itachi is to remain a junior trainee before the age of 16.

(Review year 1997, EKB)

He turned over the page eagerly.

2000.18/06

He scoffed.

Of course there would be no copy of the approval of Uchiha Itachi as a Rodent for EKB.

'Maybe, there are other archives from 90ies?'

Although, he doubted it himself since this documents were top secret and carefully recomposed, there would be no important papers such as these just scattered around the archive room.

The guy was a genius.

In since he was a child and no traces left.

The truth was the state collecting rodents and sparrows as children was nothing new. But all of them were released from the police academy and brought up by patriots. They were carefully molded into excellent tools, perfect soldiers. They were a great asset, a valuable resource, and still they were risky. Each project has to be handled with a feather touch, they were dangerous.

Uchiha Itachi was a natural.

Itachi graduated academy in three years. He was raised in a then well-respected home. Although his immediate family was not at all traditional, Itachi's grandfather was the Uchiha Madara, his uncle was Uchiha Obito both of them war heroes, loyal and dangerous.

Uchiha Fugaku was an engineer, and although his attendance to the interests of the state would be appreciated, Fugaku dropped the profession altogether and earned his living as a regular worker.

The boy sighted. Uchiha Fugaku's generation thrived on protest, but it is still such a waste, to see a great clan lineage sink to the level of a simple bus driver is indeed disappointing.

Namikaze Minato protested the same way and look where it led him.

Not that Uchiha's fate was any better.

Uchiha Itachi was a perfect weapon. He never got distracted, was always obeying orders. What matters most, he was willing.

These projects are never willing.

'Was I?'

He sighted once more. Yes, Uchiha Itachi was the best rodent but he was also the worst. He was the first to ever set his own conditions. Suddenly, from a talented boy serving his country, from a dedicated person trying to compensate his father's uselessness, from the perfect soldier he transformed into a hired assassin. A spy whose intentions were not known, whose loyalty was not known, whose capabilities were not known.

2000.18/06

Uzumaki Kushina

Age 40

Court reinvestigated Namikaze Minato's case and came to the conclusion;

Uzumaki Kushina is associated with heavy crimes of her deceased husband, the traitor and a spy, she is to be repressed to north for the next twenty years, or as the court sees fit.

Uzumaki Naruto's legal Guardian will be state, until 2001, when Jiraya Ogata will be reviewed as such.

Any legacy in the ownership of Uzumaki Kushina is to be confiscated and automatically bound to the state.

Uzumaki Naruto may remain in the possession of the original apartment in the 12th district of Eastern Konoha.

2000.22/06

Uzumaki Kushina dies of a heart attack in her home. There are no traces of a break in or any violence, or poisoning.

The court therefore cancels the order of repressing Uzumaki Kushina.

Although, her foul participation in her husband's sins are to be publicly disclosed.

2002.7/09

Uchiha Madara

Uchiha Obito

Uchiha Fugaku

Uchiha Shisui

Are deemed as public enemies, the Court releases an arrest warrant to capture them as dangerous radicals.

Uchiha clan and associates will be charged with betrayal, conspiracy against the state and sentenced to execution.

11/09

The information on the coup was delivered by Uchiha Itachi, EKB Intel and associate for the past nine years.

Uchiha Itachi proved himself as a patriot and is to remain untouched. His participation will be rewarded by the Committee for State Security.

Uchiha Sasuke and Uchiha Mikoto are to be pardoned and will be constantly monitored by EKB

(Review; 2005/10)

2007\. now

Uchiha Sasuke

She moans as I run my hand down her front from the base of her neck, through the valley of her bare breasts, over her tiny waist, right between her thighs.

I hiss at the feeling of her warmth and wetness on my fingers.

"Fuck, this is good" she murmurs.

"I didn' catch that"

"I said I love your hands on me" her voice is strained.

I can't hold back the smug smirk as I move my fingers in a circular motion, constantly pressing her clit.

I absentmindedly lay kisses on her shoulder, her tongue slips out to trail up a pronounced vein on my neck and my hand goes down heavier and faster between her legs.

She reacts instantly. Clutches onto my chest and waist with her fingernails and throws her head back in the pillows.

"Fuck!"

"I like watchin' you" I say as I lift my head from her shoulder to take in her flustered state.

Her eyes are still closed when she smirks below me. Sakura turns her head to kiss my elbow beside her supporting my weight from crushing her.

She smiles through her pleasure, her lids still shut.

"You miss awfully a lot while you're away than."

Suddenly the playful touches of the morning are not enough and as I am reminded of her performance last night, my hardness starts to ache.

I stop my ministrations earning a whine of loss from her and relieve myself from my loose boxers which feel unbearably tight right now.

She watches me eagerly. As my hand slips towards the drawer she stops me.

"Don't"

Now, this is a treat.

"Ya want me to fuck you raw"

I don't control my mouth with her, I could say any dirty shit randomly popping into my mind and she would still be turned on.

"yeah.." she sighs as I press the head to her entrance, playing with her slit.

And suddenly I am aware of her anxiety.

Yes, I love fucking Sakura. I love making love to her. I love cumming with her and after her and, selfishly, before her. I love making her cum. around my cock or fingers or tongue.

I love our sex.

I can fuck her while she's distracted or sad or angry, honestly, she's amazing when cross.

But right now I know what she is scared of and it annoys me.

So I enter her without a further delay with one powerful thrust and my breath is knocked out of me.

'Fuck, this never gets old'

"Aaah!" She practically screams.

I swallow Sakura's moans with my mouth and groan in return.

Her inner muscles are clenching my pulsing cock with their wet warm walls, I am buried deep inside of her, but when I look at her face contorted with pleasure, she is still kind of distant, so I angrily slide all the way out of her and slam right back in.

The feeling of her sweet cunt sucking me back in as I moved out leaves a tingling sensation at the base of my spine. I felt the head slam her cervix and her legs tighten around my waist.

Sakura screams.

"Tell me what you think about when you are alone" I demand after releasing a groan.

I keep moving inside of her. My thrusts slow, hard and deep. She is overflowing with wetness. Her thighs are slick and I feel drops of sweat gathering on the skin between her breasts.

Both of my hands hold her head bent backwards with her hair clutched between my fingers. I lay a wet trail from her collarbone along her clavicle with my tongue stopping to suck under her chin.

Her walls flutter around my generous thrusts and I feel her orgasm approaching.

"Sakura."

Me pronouncing her name with a stressed want breaks her and hot, indecent and utterly filthy words leave her sweet mouth.

I pick up my pace and command her to spread her legs wider for me. My hands drop to her ribs pressing there making it uneasy for her to breath. Her legs spread widely and I find myself losing all sense of control.

I grab her behind and press her up to me so that her clit rubs on my skin every time I deliver a hard thrust. I hold the back of Sakura's neck and crash her with my weight at the same time.

I don't stop moving inside of her my heavy sack of balls slapping against her constantly, her clit rubbing on my skin slick with her wetness, her breasts pressed to my chest moving slightly with the jarring sensation of me pounding her to the bed. Her hand is at the base of my spine pushing, trying to make me go deeper, her hips move in unison with mine.

Sakura cums when our pelvises slam together and her clit deliciously rubs on my stomach. My raw manhood is buried deep inside of her twitching and pulsating.

She gasps uncontrollably and rides out her orgasm.

I don't stop.

I can't.

Because I know she will go back to being afraid as soon as I stop.

And so even after I come deep inside of her, I press a noisy kiss on her clit and start building up her tension once more.

A few hours later I find her crouching at my desk working on her project. She is wearing one of my boxers, the garment resting low on her hips, its' hem almost reaching her knees. Her hair is still damp from a quick shower and her spaghetti strap top has dropped on one side revealing the half of her breast. A lit cigarette is hanging from her teeth forgotten, the ash gathering at the burning tip threatening to fall and ruin her hard work. Sakura notices none of it as her brows furrow in concentration, trying to get the shadowing right with her Rotring.

I take her cigarette from her mouth to finish it for her. She mutters something incoherent and I don't really pay attention to it.

Although she is acting normally, I can feel the chill radiating from her. I was always hypersensitive towards the slightest shifts in her behavior.

Sakura is scared and like a caged animal she becomes dangerous when she is afraid.

"That guy is from the bureau."

"Now where did that come from?"

"Don't go anywhere near him."

After a slow pause she turned towards her side of the bed.

"In fact don't go to north at all."

I sigh at her frustrating demands.

"Hey, if I could help it I'd be right here with you the whole time"

She turns towards me angrily.

"It's not that, Sasuke. We knew they would eventually come after you"

I scoff at her.

"I don't think so"

"What did that boy ask you Sasuke."

"He asked if I had any siblings at home"

"And?"

I sigh in defeat

"I told him I had a brother"

She looks at me expectantly.

"Then he asked if he worked on the north too. I said I didn't know where he worked. And then he said Itachi would be proud if he were alive to find out his brother was hardworking."

"So you did not tell him when exactly Itachi died, and you are obviously not new to the job. But he knew somehow he was never there to see you go to north"

"Sakura, you're over-analyzing it"

She huffed at me.

"Look," I start frustrated "the guy probably figured an older brother would be the one to take on working in that shithole, so he figured he was probably never there for it."

She got up from the bed suddenly in her ire.

"really? And how would he know Itachi was the older one if you did not tell him"

I pulled at her arm and made her fall back on the bad. Where I grabbed her face and pressed a loving kiss on the corner of her mouth. Trying to rid her of the tension and fear settling in her form.

"Hey blackbird," I whispered as I start stroking her hair in a soothing manner "It's okay."

My hand moved back to her face to palm her chin and press a chaste kiss there.

"I'll take care of you. And you'll take care of me."

As I recall last night's events the tension in her shoulders become more prominent to me.

She leans back from her work. Stretching her arms above her; and releases a content sigh after a disgusting pop is heard.

She looks at me finally noticing me observing her closely.

She fishes out her cigarette just as I crush mine. And she offers another with a lazy gesture of lifting the pack towards me.

I take one and she lights it for me.

We sit there in silence scrutinizing each other.

"I don't like what you are thinking"

She doesn't reply, so I continue.

"I want you to stay at your place while I'm away, if there is anything the bureau actually wants from me I don' want 'em anywhere near you"

She nods.

"I want you to send me telegrams regularly for the next four days. I'll tell Naruto to drive you and your mom regularly."

She releases a ring of smoke.

"I don't think he needs you to tell him that."

I nod absentmindedly.

"I don't want you to meet me 'ere or at Naruto's when I get back, just stay at your place and I'll see you there when we drive home.'

She stays silent and blows thin smoke lazily not even paying attention. I suddenly have the urge to grab her by her hair and shake her head till she comes to sense.

"Sakura, no matter what you are thinking if you notice anything weird, you say nothing and you do nothing."

She nods at me.

Sakura is scared and like a caged animal she becomes dangerous when she is afraid.

That's how she reacts to fear.

She could cause a lot of trouble. Mostly to herself.

So her nodding at me obediently is more disturbing than soothing.

I feel how wheels are turning in her head and it terrifies me not knowing which way.

Haruno Sakura

Sasuke left the next day. I stayed with my mom at our place and Naruto was following me everywhere like a guarding dog, which was not so bad.

It is the third day after Sasuke left and since he made it clear to Naruto that I need to stay at my place the most time, it takes a while for me to convince the Uzumaki I need to pick up some papers I left at Sasuke's.

He follows me to their building from my place and waits for me by the entrance.

As I fish out the keys for Sasuke's apartment I automatically start scanning for anything out of place.

The apartment is just the way we left it and as I pick up my papers from Sasuke's desk, I notice that we left the ashtray full again so I take it from the desk and drop the contents into the trash bin, the strong scent of long-burnt tobacco hits my nose and I regret standing so close. I check the tray on the balcony to see if we left any there.

The ashtray on the balcony is overflowing.

But what actually makes dread pool in my stomach is one crushed filter sticking out in the pile with a delicate pink print from a lipstick around it.

That's not mine.

I take the tray to dump the litter into the trash bin once more, not letting any sudden movements escape me. There is a very low chance of being watched right now, but I'm standing in front of the balcony, perfectly visible with the curtains out of the way from the opposite building, as well as from the large closet behind me, where a grown man, or a delicate woman with a pink lipstick, could hide with ease.

Before turning over the tray I snatch the one filter with the lipstick on it.

It's warm.

After setting the empty tray back on the balcony I decide to linger for a while ignoring the fearful voice in my head, which oddly resembled Sasuke's, screaming at me to fucking leave right fucking now!

I start cleaning up a bit figuring Naruto would probably wait for a couple more minutes before coming upstairs to check on her.

I lift the shirts hanging from Sasuke's headboard and proceed towards the closet only two paces away.

My heart beats faster.

There is a woman in here. The bureau is on Sasuke rights now. They probably were trying to find something or to plant something. They will take him away. THEY WILL TAKE SASUKE AWAY.

In a millisecond I thought about how they would get rid of me as a witness, how Naruto would be in the same boat, how there would be no one to protect Sasuke from them, how my mom would not make it through.

I hang the shirts on the handle of the closet door without opening it.

I turn and straighten the wrinkles on the bed.

I pick up the papers I came for without letting any inner panic cross my face enough to be visible from the closet blinds.

As I lock the door to Sasuke's apartment after exiting I feel a tear slip down my cheek.

While I linger at his door the floor inside the apartment creaks.

I flee.

Uchiha Sasuke

As expected, I received no word from Sakura for the past three days.

I figured she would be mad at me for disregarding her panicked demands to skip work and stay away from the new guy.

But, honestly, there was a very low chance for the guy to be a spy planted by government to monitor me; First of all, because, as a guy, it would be much easier for them to operate with a sparrow not a rat.

Don't get me wrong. I love Sakura, but I'm still a healthy man.

Woah, that was douchy.

Second of all, if EKB was on my ass, they would fucking arrest me first and come up with an excuse after.

They did not need to go through so much headache just to get me. It's not like I represented any danger.

And there was no Itachi covering me, serving as a roof to complicate their hunt.

But there was a small tugging in the back of my mind, reminding of all the things that should not have happened but did.

I really did not think that a new nosy guy living too close to my home and too close to the bureau was a possible danger.

But this guy lived too close to Sakura's place and Naruto's place and to the bureau so it did not sit well with me to just chat with him as if we are friends.

It also did not sit well with me to have Sakura walking around my living room while there could be a slight possibility that a search warrant was realised.

I shake my head at the annoying trail of thoughts.

There is nothing going on.

"Uchiha, break is over! Get back to work!"

I crush my cigarette, Sakura's, and head back in, dreading the feeling of claustrophobia soon to emerge.

Two years of working in coal mines and I still couldn't adapt to the disgusting tight walls.

Now these thoughts lead me to remembering how tight other walls could be. In a good way.

And I wonder for the umpteenth time what Sakura is doing right now.

Yeah, that was douchy too.

Is she in her bed?

I hope she's not in my bed.

Not right now.

Is she with Mebuki?

Is she with Naruto?

Is Naruto even there?

It's ridiculous I know Naruto will stick to Sakura's shue like a gum, shadowing her every step.

Maybe I should have still stayed after all.

At least, Sakura would calm down a little.

Because, obviously, there is no danger. The new guy is way too young to be in too.

'So was Itachi.'

I shake off the distracting thoughts and continue working.

It's a monotonous job really. But a tiring one.

Jab, crash, lift, turn, toss. Repeat.

I remember how my palms used to blister from the nonstop motions. My lungs not used to withstanding the heavy, damp and dusty air together with a stress of being a smoker.

After the first month, after returning home from my fourth travel to North, I found myself crying in Sakura's lap from sheer exhaustion, pain and the depressing, bitter thought of having to do this for the next three years.

'Hey, don't you fucking dare!'

She shouted as she pulled on my hair while I cried silently on her knees.

'Get your shit together.'

'Fuck you.' I murmur silently, all fight gone.

'You said you'd take care of me,'she reminds.

I lifted my head up silently to look at her furious mouth, not daring to return her glare with tears blurring my vision.

That was the first time I cried in the last six years.

After a small pause filled with accusations, regrets and desperation, hers and mine, she says firmly;

'This is me taking care of you'

I remember the day after that her noticing my hands blistered.

I remember her saying months later that my calloused hands felt so good on her skin.

I remember Jabbing, crashing, lifting, turning and tossing becoming so much easier after that.

I grin absentmindedly as my thoughts head down that way once more.

Haruno Sakura just seems to have that effect on me.

I hype up the rhythm of my shovel to get rid of the tension slowly heading south.

"Hey, Sasuke?"

I turn at the loud voice of our supervisor Genma.

I head towards him stopping a few paces away, and lean casually on the handle of my shovel.

"A telegram."

He passes a folded paper to me and I nod in thanks.

I lean against a blocked minecart nearby and tilt my head lamp down a little to observe the content.

The telegram is short, of course.

I expect words like "we're okay, take care" from a begrudging Sakura.

'We're fine. Come back ASAP. Naruto will meet you at the station today 8:00 PM.

-S.'

I feel my guts twist and suddenly I want to vomit.

I ditch my equipment right there telling one of the guys to take care of it.

As I head out and straight to Genma's office to let him know I'm leaving early, I find myself thinking about the new guy who didn't show up today.

So it happened.

They are out to get me.

They will execute me, arrest Naruto and repress Sakura to North.

To fucking North.

Sakura with pink hair, bony arms, slender legs, and clear, sunkissed skin. Everything the captives of North are thirsty for.

Sakura will be forced to move North and I wont be there to get in the way.

'No.' I try calming myself down.

'She said they are fine.'

My heart beats fast as open the door to the supervisors' office in the main building.

"Genma."

"If you have an emergency you can go."

It seems he got the notion correctly.

"Thanks man, 'ey listen," Genma looks up from his paperwork, "The new kid, did ya move him to Gai's group?"

"Sai? Nah, he's just in sick."

.

.

In The Memory of an Exceptional Generation

please, leave a review and let the author know your thoughts.


	4. 4

Crucial: The Power of a Propaganda Love

In The Memory of an Exceptional Generation

Chapter Four: Rodents and Sparrows 2/2

.

.

The Sparrow

What a dumb bitch.

She thought a motherfucking professional Sparrow would actually hide in a fucking closet like a senseless kid?!

What a fucking stupid, dumb bitch!

I leave no traces. Throughout all these years I never left a single fucking trace. Not once.

They fucking love me.

Yeah, I know Sasuke-kun is not all that fond of me, but I damn sure know he'd fucking protect me from EKB if it came down to it.

Sparrows are not to be driven by emotions.

Actually sparrows are not to have any feelings in general.

But it's humanly impossible to erase emotions.

So instead of trying to repress them, I thrive on them.

My emotions feed my success, and so currently I am the best fucking sparrow in this fun-house of a state.

I crawl out of the bed as soon as I hear her lock the door.

The floor creaks under my weight inconveniently but suddenly it doesn't matter;

'I'm not fucking staying under the bed they are fucking on.'

I check my surroundings with a critical eye.

I saw her feet near the closet but she didn't hang shit inside. She got scared to see a boogie-man there and ran off like a scaredy-cat she is.

Haruno Sakura is smart.

And I am the dumb bitch here for giving her such an obvious clue. What the fuck was I thinking smoking on his balcony like she'd actually listen to him and withhold from showing up to his place.

Such an amateur I've become.

"Fuck.Fuck..FUCK,FUCK,FUCK!" I chant, or shout, angrily while I'm trying to unzip my boot to look for a spare key Sasuke 'lost' at Naruto's on the get together months ago.

Ever since that day I was a frequent guest here, so much so I found Sakura's presence here annoying.

Not that It would be hard to get inside, I know Sasuke likes his space, but whenever I visit, although begrudgingly, he always holds a door for me and wordlessly starts making coffee the way we like it.

Dark, but sweet.

He'd never hurt me.

He'd never hurt a childhood friend.

Hate drives away the imperfection; it simmers slowly on the heat of cold furry and blends all the unspeakable sins together, so you can't tell which ones belong to you and which don't.

Hate is discipline.

Now love, is often considered a mess. But genuine love is a power.

I order to become a perfect sparrow, you need to know how to sell your personality well inside. And no one likes paying for a fake.

So they believe you love them because you do, they trust you because you trust them, they genuinely like you because so do you, you are their best friend, their family, their neighbor and accept you, because you fucking are what they think you are.

I do consider Naruto my own family.

I did mourn Kushina.

I do like Sakura.

And I indeed am absolutely in love with Sasuke.

I am going to betray them, and so that is why Sasuke-kun always looks at me with disappointment.

Hate drives away the imperfection; it simmers slowly on the heat of cold furry and blends all the unspeakable sins together, so you can't tell which ones belong to you and which don't.

And thus, I take comfort in my dismaying hatred towards myself driving my actions.

As I lock the door behind me silently, I depart through a fire exit and blend in with a crowd.

The Good Citizen

Every Totalitarian regime is run by a government with power issues. But there is absolutely no way any party can last forever.

If you have never had a taste of being a part of a mass not ruled, but controlled, here is a visualization of a totalitarian order;

Imagine a small place.

A good place.

About hundred men, hundred women and let's say eighty kids.

Imagine 30% of the population having a decent job and a house they inherited from their family. They form nice, safe neighborhoods; they live in good buildings where they carefully select people to let inside their little elite circle. They help their children marry in better families and double their wealth. This circle does not consist only of royalty though;

These are just people whose ancestors, after deconstruction of the monarchy, although stripped of their status, remained the owners of lands worth thirty times the income of a regular worker;

Or the people whose ancestors were smart enough to see an opportunity when the monarchy was over to acclaim lands without having a status.

The former monarchs' social class segregation does not disappear.

And when these creams of society take over its clearly visible that equality is an illusion.

After enough time passes and the class separation is more prominent with a clear red line running in the middle of them, they finally feel comfortable enough to give names to each class from the safety of their own zones.

While regular social structure distinguishes lower, middle and upper classes usually dividing farmers, workers, intelligence, merchants, and officials; in The Good Place, everything is more contrasted for it is relatively small and isolated.

So here only two main classes appear; the upper class and the lower class with a very small gradation of the social intelligence in the middle, consisting of scientists, writers, artists, teachers, the university staff, doctors and college students.

Keep in mind that the general population's 75% mostly consists of the lower class.

And the Good Place has grown a lot since the empire fell.

Now, there are no bad or good people in this good place. But there is always a force ready to direct the horrifying wrath of exhausted, starved workers' towards their own target.

And so Socialist party starts to emerge in the circles of regular workers, touching their hearts with public speeches of shared pain and planting a poisonous hope in their minds that somehow the revolution will solve all of their problems.

The revolution does happen and it triggers other places around the good place to take action now that they smell blood.

The revolution wins. The upper and middle class mix so that they can't be distinguished. Everyone has a home. If an official's home consisted of, for example, twelve rooms before, they have to settle for three small rooms for each family and a communal kitchen and bathroom now. They are obligated to work in order to receive their share of resources necessary for survival. Everyone is equal and the workers are currently content.

But there is no time to acclimate to the new system, for a war breaks out and suddenly the good place is flooded with blood.

When the war is over and the good place is dwindling in its numbers, government uses an iron fist to set a regime of equality, and since a lot of the resources are simply gone this decision is welcomed. Soon the good place becomes a peaceful place. Which doesn't last for long.

The government has gained enough trust to spread its tentacles further and soon different organs appear; these organs seem to work in the interests of people, for their security, brighter future, education, and progress.

But what exactly happens is the government is getting ready to crush people with an unbreakable regime, taking advantage while they are still disoriented after the loss caused by war.

The past war is a good excuse to present a hidden danger to the people. They announce that there are spies scattered in the good place like moving mines.

Dangerous and poisonous.

Every spy and their associates are to be severely punished.

The good place is taken over with fear and paranoia.

This is when the intelligence takes action. They see through the whole act and notice the governors' filthy hands clasped around their windpipes ready to crush.

Their whimper of warning sounds as beautiful as uncensored poetry, passionate, forbidden publicist letters, and rebellious songs chanted without care by bleeding young men in a faraway cellar as their own death lullaby.

The beautiful roar of freedom slowly fades into a wounded whisper as the Committee for State Security chokes out their last breath.

Then silence.

The dissidents are easily labeled as traitors, spies, rats… their names forever contaminated.

This serves as a reminder not to fuck with the system.

This method proves helpful with the cases occurring in the next years to regulate any unwanted slipups.

The good place is stable; it is dying an undignified death.

But then, years later, emerges a new generation of not yet intoxicated, loving, devoted children. Ready to take bullets for each other, to protect and even clear their family names, to continue losing until they win. Ready to endlessly throw their lives away to let the echo of that beautiful song be heard eternally.

How is it fair that such a generation exists? This row of snotty kids somehow missing the poison carefully planted throughout the years past.

How is it possible for these off springs of cruelty, fear and despair to turn out so bright and loyal and resilient?

Who took all of their sorrows and doubts away to shield them from the intoxication; who laid all the weight of unspeakable sins on his shoulders urgently so there would be none left for the future. Who gave away their own childhood without any mourning and remorse in order to preserve these slipups?

The good place is actually a good place, for raising one Uchiha Itachi.

Haruno sakura

I was just a little girl so I don't really remember it clearly but I recall this one time when Itachi was observing my childish doodles in Sasuke's notebook on our way back from school.

The younger Uchiha had freaked out in class after finding his notebook in such a condition and though usually he was patient with me, he had suddenly flipped. Which had not really bothered me since I found a blank space in his academic journal to continue doodling. Sasuke started complaining about how I was always so messy, how all my books were usually covered with drawings and after I turned with my nose stuck up in the air with "Stop shouting, I'm a girl" in a calm tone, he took away his stuff proceeding to hide it in his locker wordlessly.

When Itachi came to pick us up, Sasuke showed him his ruined notebook and demanded they leave me behind for such behavior.

'Now, Sasuke, I think this is nice. Someday you will have to pay for something like this.' He said without taking his eyes off the simple drawing of a ladybug with a bonnet; A very girly doodle indeed for a boy's notebook, especially since I stole the manly stickers of cars adorning it before. Again.

'I don't like it.' The younger boy announced.

'Well, I don't like you!'

Sasuke actually gasped.

'Take that back!'

Now that I think about it, we were probably a handful.

When I was a little older, maybe like twelve, Itachi caught me drawing small colorful patterns on Sasuke's old white shoes.

He stopped by the threshold throwing a look at the boys busy with homework on the other side of the room. He looked down at my work.

I looked up at his tall frame and blushed.

'It's fun.' I murmured with a shrug

'It looks like fun.' He nodded a little and smiled that melancholy smile I never understood. That smile of a deadman on a face so young brought a sudden rush of sadness to me.

'I read once,' He started; 'that art can be made or ruined with just three strokes.'

I try not to let the confusion leak into my expression.

'Is it true?'

I nod in a very competent manner looking down to continue with the soft shadowing.

I heard his steps fade away.

'Show off.' I hear Naruto snicker.

I throw a dirty glare his way.

'You SO have absolutely no idea what he's talkin' 'bout.'

'U Zo eve ebsutli No Idia vut iZ folkin about.' I mimicked the blond while making a face.

Three strokes.

I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

But now it has become as clear as day.

These three strokes are the strategy of how to relay a concept the way you want it, with no errors or misunderstandings.

A combination of patterns serving a specific purpose.

Humor, creativity and honesty, is my personal formula for my art.

That's what you expect from a good illustrator to create what you wanted. The content that is adequate.

Now when it comes to political propaganda I know the components it requires:

It's Half-humor ('cause you are not making a joke, but you need the public to relate), half-creativity ('cause, yes, they need creative content, but there still are strict lines not to be crossed) and half-honesty (I'm not even going to explain).

As you can see, to make a perfect poster for political propaganda you would need only half an illustrator.

Budget-friendly isn't it?

But it's hard to imagine Love can be somehow illustrated.

Not when even Goya was not able to draw just one picture of the Maja.

According to Francisco Goya you'd need to draw at least two of them to capture the concept.

So is love The Clothed Maja or The Naked Maja?

Or neither.

I don't know enough history of arts to dwell on that, I guess.

I don't know which three strokes you need to illustrate love.

The first ever propaganda illustration I made (because you can't just say no to the fucking Committee for State Security) had words 'North', 'Spies' and 'Free' in bold.

In order to propaganda love you need three perfect strokes.

Fear, radicalism and hope.

The first ever propaganda illustration I made (because you can't just say no to the fucking Committee for fucking State Security) had words 'North', 'Spies' and 'Free' in bold.

Our government presented love as a weapon, as a glue to help us stick together to save the brighter future, and anyone outside of this sick circle of misplaced love would remain loveless. They would live a loveless life in a loveless place. And it was terrifying.

Of course If you scare people too much they start fighting, if you take away too much they will have nothing else to lose, so how do you eradicate protest without compromising?

You give them hope.

Hope keeps them going forward and fear holds them back, and that way you have them right where you want them.

Now if you normalize a little radicalism you could mold anyone into anything.

You could make a child kill. You could make them turn in their own family; all for the sake of radical ideas.

I and my boys were in the same class.

The public school inspector along with the National party representative as a supervisor would often visit us.

They used to enter the class completely unannounced, we would stand up as by the etiquette, they would greet us and let us sit.

Not all of us, though.

'Children of harvests keep on standing.'

And so the kids whose parents were deemed traitors of the state, whose parents were repressed or executed, whose parents did their best, got back up. They could not have been a danger to society with children like Akimichi Chouji, Inuzuka Kiba or Hyuga Neji.

They would continue an intoxicating speech involving the generosity of the state to let these children earn a better future by committing to the interests of the state. They went on disregarding how the figures standing in the classroom full of our old drawings of cars, sunflowers, suns and sea, suffered from the immense humiliation, how they clenched their teeth in anger. How their eyes filled with tears. Completely ignoring their agony over the injustice and ugliness of the situation, they spoke of how this treatment should serve as a precedent to those out there who have ever even thought about betrayal.

A parent betraying their country is not a parent and deserves no love.

All our love should be directed towards the state, the government, the CSS, the EKB.

Then they would proceed with a story so wrong in so many ways, I remember wishing they were made-up.

The famous story of a role model patriot boy who fucking ratted on his own family and thus contributed to the state, the boy declared an oath to eradicate any traitors on his way, and with his family fucking slaughtered, the state would finally grant him a fucking medal of honor.

The inspector proudly added that the boy was just ten.

'I was there to witness Danzo-sama himself pin the medal to the boy's chest'

Sasuke and Naruto were conveniently absent during these meetings most of the time. But when they were not all hell broke loose.

They were constantly in trouble and their punishment was harsh but my boys never stood there willingly listening to some douchbag disrespecting, defaming and degrading their families.

After that one time Sasuke came out of the principal's office with his raw knees bleeding through his pants, no doubt from kneeling on the biting puddle of rice and buckwheat for the past hours, a barbarian punishment for a seventeen-year-old, or anyone for that matter, I finally flipped.

I did not say a word to them, but as soon as the boys walked me to my place and left for their own building, I ran right out to the communal telephone booth and dialed Itachi's office.

It seems the older Uchiha pulled some strings, which I was hoping for, since they left Sasuke and Naruto alone.

Not for long though.

The CSS consisted of fools.

They never knew that the propaganda could be perfectly misinterpreted and used against them if someone put their mind to it.

And just like that, the love that was supposed to be directed towards our filthy leaders' was directed towards each other.

There was more empathy and freedom in our generation than the state would have liked.

Thus, to crush our spirits and repress our will of fire the government came up with a perfect excuse.

The harvests' sons would be sent to north in order to redeem their families' sins. This was presented as a unique opportunity and an act of generosity and kindness.

It was supposed to deliver a message: Don't fuck with us.

Uzumaki Naruto a professional translator having an extraordinary talent to communicate with any foreigner and make them believe in literally anything, decided to degrade the menacing message to: We are fucking scared shitless.

And still it never made Sasuke's departure any easier.

Uchiha Sasuke

As I near the general exit of the station eyes frantically searching for that ridiculous, familiar blond hair, I am suddenly overtaken by fear.

If anyone is after me they can be here.

For a moment I falter in my steps considering if my association with the Uzumaki is marking him an ultimate target.

But then Sakura's voice floats in from somewhere safe.

'We're fine. Come back ASAP. Naruto will meet you at the station today 8:00 PM.

-S.'

'We're fine.'

They are fine.

She's okay.

Haruno Sakura maybe wrong about a lot of things, but she is also annoyingly right.

They are fine.

As I spot Uzumaki Naruto leaning against the cargo of his truck, I know.

They are fine.

If the CSS was on my ass, than they would not plant a rat, they'd rather play a sparrow.

If the CSS wanted me, they would never let me leave the North so freely.

They are fine.

They would call on me during work, and read a list of my faults with a concluding order signed by court to me right in front of the fucking mines.

That shithole would be the last fucking thing I would see.

They are fine.

They would put one bullet in my head and two in my chest.

They would send the receipt for the used bullets to Sakura, who is to be notified if I happen to be caught in an emergency.

And she would learn of my death the same time the taxes arrived.

Letting her know how much she owes to the state for communal water, electricity and the three bullets lodged in the body of a labeled traitor.

A spy.

A harvest's son.

They are fine.

For once Naruto doesn't say a word when he sees me.

I slide into the passenger seat, waiting to hear the door on his side slam shut.

We don't speak on the way home and he lights his first cigarette on the redlight right when I carelessly throw my second one out of the window.

"Fuck." Is the first thing I hear from him as he makes a hit.

The idiot is looking out of the window, and I notice how he is slowly getting a second chin.

He really needs to diet.

"Man, I don't know what she saw."

I feel my hands shake as I light another one frantically.

Did she lie to me?

Did she do it so I wouldn't panic?

Did she see something bad?

Did they threaten her?

"Naruto."

"No, she's okay, she fine. You know sorta jumpy is all."

'What the fuck happened?!'

I realize a little too late that I actually shouted it at him.

The light shifts to green and Naruto continues driving.

"She's okay man." And it's the first time he looks me in the eyes. It's just a short moment but it's enough to reassure me, "I'll take you back to her."

"Every time"

"I promise."

They are fine.

The Rat

Haruno Sakura is ugly.

Our Intel is so close to the target that we got a very detailed characterization about the people surrounding him.

And the way she described Haruno Sakura, made me anticipate our meeting.

After all, who the fuck dies their hair pink.

But as I watch the young Uchiha embrace the small girl to his form in the middle of her living room through a curtain less balcony, crushing her bones to his body.

Kissing her neck in a frantic manner.

Chanting near her ear something I, a meaningless Rat, cannot know but am sure is to sound loving and beautiful.

I find the girl obnoxious. With thin bony arms, her spine not at all straight fingers dirty with some kind of ink, smudging all over the Uchiha's shirt for sure.

Her hair is a shade of pink that will never get anyone to treat her seriously.

Nothing like a confident young woman, who could actually represent some danger.

I'm about to rest my gaze on more deserving occupants of the room, when suddenly I notice her face.

Her doll like face directed at me.

Her forest green eyes are perfectly visible in the sun throwing light on her form.

Her eyes looking in my general direction, not really focused on me, but still aware of my presence, remind me of a predator that is less noticeable or deadly than the lethal arms of a man currently holding her with much care.

She is no shark, or a panther or a fox or even a rat, but is nonetheless still a predator.

She is a White Oleander, loved by the sun and by a strong, dry wind. A beautiful flower that could bloom in unbearable heat, seemingly pure and innocent, ready to spread its poison through even the bees carrying the toxic nectar of oleander and producing sweet honey, golden and deadly.

The sweet tilt of her lovely face makes something start to slowly sizzle in my veins and I suddenly discover that her presence is so utterly disarming I could say the forbidden words of a sinner's confession.

My name is not Sai. I have no name. I left my identity lying next to my beloved brother. A bright soul I ripped out of a young body.

She is the harvest to be removed by the government.

She is ugly and toxic.

Karin was wrong to say her hair was actually pink.

I am sure it is really just an empty white.

.

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In The Memory of an Exceptional Generation

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